


Phil Coulson can't talk to Captain America

by Sproid



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, More Fluff, Phil is adorable, So is Steve, they can be adorable and awkward together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sproid/pseuds/Sproid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson can't talk to Captain America. He manages alright with Steve Rogers though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phil Coulson can't talk to Captain America

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted Phil/Steve fluff with a possibility of smut, so wrote the fluff myself.

The first time Agent Coulson meets Captain America, he stumbles over his words in a way that should be embarrassing, but "I watched you while you were sleeping" is a pretty accurate representation of reality and he isn't ashamed of it. He still can't get his words out straight, because his hero is two feet away from him, actually looking at him while he speaks and that's a lifelong dream that Coulson didn't ever think would come true. If the Captain is politely interested and nothing more, well, Coulson's a realist and he'll take what he can get.

The second time they talk, Coulson asks Captain Rogers to sign his trading cards. His heart pounds the entire time, not because he's nervous about asking – Coulson has no problems with being straightforward about what he wants – but because Rogers has every right to refuse. Standing tall and straight next to Coulson though, soldier at ease conversing with an associate, Rogers handles the request professionally and calmly. For the rest of the day, Coulson stands just a little straighter, because Rogers hadn't looked as if he minded Coulson asking, and Coulson's allowed to hope that means something.

The next time they meet doesn't count, because Phil's in hospital after being stabbed through the chest by a glowing spear. He blinks blurry eyes open to see Captain America standing at the end of his bed, a red white and blue figure with arms folded across his chest while he looks at Phil with a distinctly displeased expression on his face. Phil wonders what he's done to make the guy unhappy, which is not what he'd intended to do, and shuts his eyes before Cap can say anything. Asleep, he doesn't have to hear words that might hurt him more than the hole in his chest does.

Cap doesn't visit him again after that. Instead Steve sits at the side of Phil's bed in the evenings, smiling warmly while Phil rambles sleepily about childhood adventures in the world of Captain America, about adulthood trials in the real world, about anything that his brain doesn't censor before it reaches his mouth. An argument could be made that those visits also don't count as meeting each other, because Phil's on the good drugs and doesn't know what he's saying half the time. Steve laughs and murmurs quiet responses though, and talks quietly when Phil runs out of energy, until he falls asleep with that reassuring presence watching over him. Phil really wants that to count.

After a week at home under strict orders to rest – reinforced by daily visits from the Avengers and related personnel – the doctors clear Phil for gentle supervised exercise. That afternoon there's a knock on Phil's door which, when opened, reveals Steve standing two steps down, hands shoved in his pockets while he shuffles his feet.

"Uh... hi," Steve says, ducking his head for a second before looking back up, eyes darting around before he looks back at Phil. Phil wonders if there's a threat for a second, but Fury's got his apartment under constant watch so there's no danger of that.

"Hello," Phil replies, a blink the only sign of his confusion. "Is there a reason you're at my house at two am on a Saturday? I believe you get weekends off, you know."

"That's kinda why I'm here," Steve replies, shifting in what is definitely a nervous fashion before he gets hold of himself. He half smiles, clears his throat and says, "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go for coffee with me?"

For a few seconds, Phil's brain blanks and he just stares at Steve, who flushes and looks away. Then they both try to talk at once, with Phil blurting out "Yes, of course, I'd love to" while Steve mumbles, "Never mind, silly idea, you've got better things to do". The upshot of this mess of words tumbling out is that thirty seconds later there's silence again while they both glance sidelong at each other and smile sheepishly.

"Let me get my coat," Phil says, finally managing to form a coherent sentence. Steve nods, leans against Phil's door frame and tells him, "I'll wait."

They chatter about absolutely nothing as they walk to the coffee shop, Phil's arm linked with Steve's ("You're still recovering," Steve says, and Phil doesn't object), and if there's the occasional awkward silence or stumble of words, it doesn't really matter. Neither of them can help smiling, because Agent Coulson and Captain America don't have much to talk about, but Phil and Steve can't seem to stop.


End file.
